


it's so dark tonight (it looks nice)

by far2late



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Bad Ending, Betrayal, Character Death, Crying, Dark, Emotional Hurt, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Introspection, Manipulation, Mental Breakdown, Mentioned Dave | Technoblade, Mentioned Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Wilbur Soot, No Dialogue, Other, Sad, Sad Ending, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, no beta i never beta ever, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:48:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28232694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/far2late/pseuds/far2late
Summary: "there was always something that hurt more when it came to being betrayed by a friend, tommy found himself thinking, eyes stinging in the bitter cold and bringing a shiny wetness to them that he couldn’t wipe away. it was like watercolour that had dried on yellowing, crumpled paper, staining it an ugly blue for as long as he had in his grasp and didn’t decide to soak it in water completely. "ortommy is atlas, and the world has crushed him under its weight.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF) & Other(s), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 177





	it's so dark tonight (it looks nice)

**Author's Note:**

> tw / suicide

the night sky was darkened into near black, an abyss staring back at tommy as he sat in the midst of the campsite, carnage and wreckage surrounding him. there were odd pieces of trash that had been on fire and provided little flickering light that highlighted his face with orange and yellow, illuminating tear tracks that had long since dried over his face. 

the dirt smeared across his cheeks was an afterthought when compared to the sorry state he was in, clothes were torn up and his eyes red from crying. his tear line had slowly grown puffy and left the shadow of his eye bags to look smaller than they were. 

it had been eons, maybe. he had been sitting in the wreckage for so long that his legs were numb and he couldn’t feel his feet any longer. the energy needed for him to struggle to his feet was barely present, and tommy couldn’t bring himself to care. dream had long since left in his quest to torment l’manberg and the others on the server, there was little need to stick around with tommy. 

even after he destroyed all his things, he had said that the trips he made would be decreased to once a week. dream would come to look over him and nothing more, just to make sure he was alive. the way he described it made it sound like he thought tommy was nothing more than a useless chore he had committed himself to on accident. the thought should have brought him to tears, but there was little left to cry about in his little circle of stone and dirt with a compass clutched to his chest. 

the infinite possibilities of how the day could have gone differently flickered in his mind listlessly. in one world, he could see dream hugging him close as he broke down, letting him keep his armour. in another, he was making a new set that he was allowed to keep. in another again, tubbo visited after dream left and promised him that he would be free from his exile, despite being the one to send him there in the first place. 

there was always something that hurt more when it came to being betrayed by a friend, tommy found himself thinking, eyes stinging in the bitter cold and bringing a shiny wetness to them that he couldn’t wipe away. it was like watercolour that had dried on yellowing, crumpled paper, staining it an ugly blue for as long as he had in his grasp and didn’t decide to soak it in water completely. 

tommy didn’t have much to his name, not anymore. even the blue he had gotten from wilbur he hadn’t been allowed to keep. it felt like a cruel joke, to see the ghost of his brother disappear only a few months after he had. tommy knew wilbur had left long before he died; it was easier to pretend that ghostbur was everything that he used to know. the family and friends that tommy cherished so closely were being ripped from him, and the only ones who could fix it were people he couldn’t go and see. 

for a long, long time, tommy had poured his heart into everything that mattered to him. his relationship with his brothers, his admiration for his father figure, his love for l’manberg, his devotion to his friends, his loyalty to the land that wilbur seemed to value more than he did him some days. it was all give, give, give, for tommy. there was hardly any instance of him getting anything back, though his campsite had been littered with gifts. 

because it was different to take the fall for a friend and only have a pickaxe to show for it. it was different to save his country and have a shitty little christmas tree with none of the memories attached. it was different to miss his brother and have a ghost who waved blue dye at him like it was the end-all for all his problems. the world seemed cruel in the way it selected its heroes and its victims, often mixing the two into one. 

because techno had been correct when he said that heroes don’t get happy endings. heroes were born to be stepping stones and foils and plot points that would fade from existence should their bravery not be acknowledged. surely there had been warriors who had helped heracles in his trials who had been forgotten to time. surely someone must have been there when theseus encountered the minotaur and had died aiding the hero. surely the world wasn’t so cruel to treat every one of its champions like atlas himself. 

but tommy found this not to be the case firsthand. it was funny to him, at least. that techno had been the one born and raised on greek mythology only for the youngest of the group to be the one in a self-fulfilling prophecy of pain and suffering he didn’t think he could get away from. 

  
  


things may have first started going downhill when eret betrayed them, but tommy wasn’t equipped for this. he wasn’t equipped to deal with the pain in his chest that came with the betrayal of his best friend in cold blood and a want for lands that were still dubbed l’manberg. tommy didn’t think tubbo ever realized that l’manberg was a group of people rather than land they resided on. 

there was little that could help him in coping with tubbo’s disappearance from his life, so he never acknowledged it. not until now. 

not until he was alone, truly. 

all there was now was tommy and the stars. he could practically hear clara calling his name from the cosmos, and the tears that sprang from his eyes were involuntary as he finally crumpled under the weight of the world under his shoulders. he wasn’t meant for this. he wasn’t meant for this, he wasn’t meant for this,  _ he wasn’t meant for this.  _

atlas was a titan when he had been assigned his burden and had the strength of a thousand stronger than him. to compare tommy to atlas was to compare a lion to an ant, and even though the ant may have survived longer, the ant couldn’t survive the weight of all those who came before him on his back. ants worked in groups, as did lions. lions only functioned properly in prides, rogues slowly dying off on their own in fruitless attempts to grow stronger and more powerful. 

in this situation, it may have been fair to compare tommy to an ant and dream to a rogue lion, still in his prime with a shiny mane and claws to back up his proposals, yet no pride to keep him safe in the night when he may need nothing more than a break. 

tommy needed a break. he had for a long time. 

the teen moved to struggle to his feet, stumbling immediately as his heels rolled out from under him. the pain didn’t bother him anymore, as much as he wished that he could feel anything besides the type of sadness that made him want to cry so hard he threw up. tommy’s tears had been near-dried up, there was no point in trying to summon them to relieve him of their weight. yet another burden to shoulder. 

after a moment to reclaim his balance, he looked around his campsite once more. he examined the trees, the crater, the christmas tree far-off from his vision. it looked like a smear of light in the end of a long tunnel, a bit of light for a dying world where he felt like the only inhabitant. the smog and smoke of the small fires near him didn’t register as he swayed quietly, stabbing pain in his chest as he bit back a sob. 

tommy felt alone. tommy was alone. 

_ everyone had left the estranged hero in the end _ , the teen thought as he slowly built his way up.  _ when he was nothing but a problem and wanted to live in peace, he had to ruin everything and suddenly everyone had forgotten what he had given up for his country. for his friends and family and the things he did to make sure that they would live on longer than he ever could.  _

he was doomed from the start, tommy realized blankly, another mound of half-melted cobble taking its place under his feet. he was cursed ever since phil had found him in the forest and taken him in like a pet only to never pay him attention. he was doomed to pain and heartbreak and fire and betrayal the moment he decided to take the man’s hand and trust someone wouldn’t play with his heart and crush it like a petal between the jaws of a snake. 

the snake bit, infecting the flower with its cruel poison until he was rotting from the inside out and the red petals had nothing to show for it until it was far too late, maggots and worms infecting the blood-red roses that had been tommy’s heart. 

when he reached as far as he could go, he stopped. everything stopped in unison with him, as though he were finally so far up in the sky that he could rest for just a moment, just one minute to pretend to be the kid he never got the chance to be. tommy closed his eyes, breathed in, legs swinging over the side of his tower, and choked on a sob as he felt clara cradling him in her arms. 

he missed the touch of another person, hugging them and knowing they were there. giving someone a high-five and realizing they weren’t an illusion. whacking someone on the arm to remind himself he wasn’t talking to himself. 

tommy went right through wilbur, never able to feel his warm embrace again. it hurt more than he thought, and the burning in his chest when he first found out wasn’t from the feeling of trying to touch a ghost anymore than it was the feeling of realizing how temporary everything was. 

dream was temporary, tommy thought mindlessly, shivering slightly as snow fell quietly upon his shoulders and head. he could see the fire at his feet die out instantly, the tree still lit up far off. it looked like less of a beacon and more of a lamp to attract moths so they could die in their want for warmth and happiness. 

tommy wondered if dream ever intended for him to become a moth while they were finally becoming friends. tommy wondered a lot of things about dream, but it seemed that dream never really cared about him. 

his head was tipped back to the sky, arms outstretched to catch the stinging feeling of cold against his bare arms. he hummed to himself, the same broken tune he adopted on the island. he repeated it again and again and again as he fought through sobs. he repeated it until the snow had stopped and his voice grew sore and tears spilled onto his lips. 

he nearly laughed as he tasted salt on his tongue. his laugh died out almost as soon as the thought crossed his mind, brought back to docks and a seaside complimenting a setting sun. the sky was slowly turning purple, tommy noted. 

the air was cold. the world was silent. he could hear nothing. tubbo would have liked this. tubbo would have liked this. tubbo would have liked this. 

as tommy fell from the heavens and to his final resting place, he could feel the cold curl of hands reaching out for him from the top of his tower. nothing registered, not even the sound of wind as he fell from the skies. all he heard was the quiet humming of clara and the way the skies finally cradled him in their arms. he smiled on the way down, eyes fluttering shut as the fire behind them died and the world finally shifted into quiet. 

quiet and calm. tubbo would have liked this. tommy liked this. tubbo would have liked this. tommy liked this. tommy used to like this. tommy used to like this. tubbo didn’t like this. 

tommy used to like this. tubbo didn’t like this. 

**Author's Note:**

> haha time of the month for another vent fic :) thanks for reading, hope ur alright. stay safe. talk to someone if you need help


End file.
